


polaroids and letters of the past

by jangmun



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moving, Past Heo Chan/Kang Seungsik, Roadtrip, Seungwoo is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jangmun/pseuds/jangmun
Summary: Seungsik is moving a few hours away, and for four years now he's been wondering if he's ready to move on, as well.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47
Collections: VICFEST®—round two!





	polaroids and letters of the past

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Firstly I wanna say I am very thankful to the person who submitted this prompt, it gave me so many ideas and I love you for that! Secondly, this is unbeta'd and I hope you're okay with that. I do detail death a little bit in the fic, so if that does bother you I would avoid the paragraphs that starts with "But it's been four years..." ! Please enjoy!

The apartment looks so bare without the furniture and boxes covering almost every inch. For the past week it’s all Seungsik woke up to, tripping over unpacked piles of clothes and miscellaneous items, each and every pile meticulously organized into certain sets of items, and day by day the boxes and piles got smaller and smaller, and he isn’t even sure how he managed to get so much stuff into his tiny one-bedroom apartment in the first place. But he’s picking up the last of the boxes and carrying them downstairs, putting them into Seungwoo’s car trunk, surprisingly big and already half full. “How much do you have left?”

“Just one more box in my bedroom.” Seungsik smiles, waiting for the butterflies in his stomach to settle. Even after three years, Seungwoo still makes his heart flutter.

The last box is one that Seungsik is nervous to grab. It isn’t filled with breakables or anything, not even heavy with his collections of books, but it holds a lot of memories. He spends a little too long standing still in his room, and it’s only when Seungwoo comes back in to check on him that Seungsik comes back to reality. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” Seungsik nods, following Seungwoo out of the apartment, and once he closes the door, Seungsik feels the slightest bit of relief.

He takes the box with him to the passenger seat, maybe to give himself something to look through as they drive to their new apartment together, or just for safe keeping. He has a couple of hours to kill

The first hour of the road trip goes by pretty quietly, aside from the music coming from the radio and Seungwoo’s purposefully off-key singing. Mountains and trees streak by in a blur, and Seungsik is still grasping tightly onto the box in his hands. A box of memories from five years ago, Seungsik almost doesn’t dare to open it at all.

Seungwoo’s friend suggested that he look through it sometime. He was confused why at first, but then Sejun explained that looking back on the past as he moves on to a new future might do him some good. It sounds like a load of bullshit, though. Seungsik has already convinced himself he’s moved on.

He’s lying to himself, though. “If you want, you can put that box in the back seat.” Seungwoo glances over at Seungsik, and Seungsik catches the glimpse of concern in his eyes before he’s focused on the road again. “I understand, if you don’t.”

Seungsik hums. Seungwoo’s always been understanding, something that he can be happy for. No wayward attempts to make Seungsik explain or pry at him. “I should, right?”

“We’ve got a few hours to kill before we get to the apartment.”

He thinks about it.

It’s halfway through the second hour that Seungsik finally decides to open the box. He lifts the lid, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, the wave of emotions pouring out of the now open box almost suffocate him. At the top is a stack of letters, handwritten on torn out notebook paper, and just below it is a sweatshirt that’s not quite Seungsik’s size, with a date embroidered on the side of the sleeve. There’s also a set of matching necklaces, with sun and moon shaped pendants, a pair of glasses with dust on the lenses, and ticket stubs to a music concert. And even though the box has been stored away in his closet, Seungsik can still smell the faintest hint of cologne that isn’t his.

The letters are mixture of his own and Chan’s. God, he misses him. Even after four years. The paper feels like a delicacy, that one wrong pull could entirely tear it, and Seungsik almost doesn’t dare to try. But he does, and a swarm of memories flood in, Chan’s handwriting just so beautifully soft. It doesn’t even feel real, it’s definitely a dream.

_I know you said writing letters is cliché ad everything, but I simply can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to tell you and it can’t wait until I fly over and see you in person again. You know how I’d been wanting to buy a new laptop? Well, I’ve finally gotten enough money! Now we can talk for longer than just an hour or two._

_There’s something else too! I’m almost done with my second to last semester of college, and I’ve been studying a lot, and I think it’s finally paying off. You know how I told you I was worried about my entrance exam? Well, I think the internship has definitely paid off. I won’t be too stressed out for much longer._

_Ruby finally had her puppies! Turns out she had four, not three. But they’re all so cute, Seungsik. I really hope that you can meet them soon, I bet you’d love them. And if I didn’t forget this time, I added polaroids them, and myself._

Seungsik pulls them out of the box, smiling at just how bad Chan was at taking photos, because half of the polaroids have tiny pups only partially in frame, and the one of himself has his eyes closed with an awkward peace sign and sideways cute grin. “What are those?”

“Polaroids. His dog had puppies a few years ago, he took pictures of them all. And of himself.” Seungsik flips through them one more time, shaking his head. He’s got a large collection of photos from Chan, he always spent money on new film, always taking pictures, always sending them to Seungsik. He could probably make a scrapbook full of it. “I have about a hundred of them at this point.”

Seungwoo smiles. “We’re about to pull into a gas station, do you want a drink? Some food?”

“Just a coke, thanks.”

Seungwoo pulls the car into one of the gas stalls, pulling off his seatbelt and heads into the gas station. Seungsik flips through the polaroids once more, looking at the back of them, admiring the cute little notes Chan had written on them. From _I almost sneezed while taking this_ to _Ruby is sleeping next to your hoodie._ Each of them is just another cute addition.

Seungwoo comes back from the store with Seungsik’s drink and some food, perhaps to feed his appetite, but some of it seems to be for Seungsik as well. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I bought you some food too.”

“Thank you.”

Seungwoo kisses his cheek, setting the bag of food down to pump gas into the car. Seungsik wonders how he still got this lucky. To have a man like Seungwoo with him. He still remembers their first date, so awkward and so ridiculous, Seungsik spilling his coffee all over his sweatshirt in a clumsy mess of flustered conversation and giddiness, and Seungwoo offering his own hoodie for him to wear and Seungsik almost saying no because why should he take the hoodie of the guy he’s only known for three weeks? He remembers their fifth date, where Seungwoo picked him up from Seungsik’s job just to bring him a cup of coffee and a ride to Seungwoo’s apartment where only the two of them are together and a day of destress. And when Seungsik wasn’t feeling his best, Seungwoo had been there to be there. “What are you thinking about?”

Seungsik is startled by Seungwoo. He’s now in the car with an opened bag of chips in one hand and his other on Seungsik’s hand. “Ah, nothing, really.” Seungwoo is clearly not convinced, but he doesn’t press on. “I’m just reading some letters.”

“He’s got beautiful handwriting.”

“He does.” Seungsik folds the letter back up, placing it back in the box, just on top of the sweatshirt. He’ll admit the box is a bit of an unorganized mess. The letters aren’t even in order, and he only knows that because the crumpled and slightly yellowed paper at the very bottom of the stack is most definitely Chan’s first letter written. He isn’t even sure if he wants to open it, but maybe he should, though something still tells him he shouldn’t. “How much longer do we have?”

“Hm, about an hour and a half?” Seungwoo looks at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to put that box up?”

For a moment, Seungsik actually considers the idea. He’s definitely still not ready to move on just quite, even though it’s been long enough that he’s engaged to another man, moving in with him and on the outside it looks like he’s definitely moved on. Seungsik thinks he might not be ready. Not ready to accept that he’s moved on, to accept that Chan is not there any longer.

Seungsik grabs three letters, putting the lid back on the box and setting it in the backseat behind Seungwoo. “I’ll just read these.”

“Okay.”

It takes Seungsik another fifteen minutes before he unfolds one of the letters. It’s the really old one, actually, from when Chan decided to start writing letters to him. It isn’t that they couldn’t talk through the phone or anything, this was just how Chan was.

_Hello! I know, Seungsik, I know. You told me before that writing letters is really over the top and too romantic for your style, but I wanted to anyways. This is the first one! First one of many, I hope. You don’t even have to write back, honestly. But I would absolutely love it if you did._

_So, how are things? I know you can’t answer right away, but I hope it’s all well! Tell your mom I said hello, by the way! She seems like a super sweet woman. How’s school? Learning how to write music must be so much more fun than what I have to do._

_I recently bought a new pair of shoes. They’re really comfortable, and they’re totally your style, I bet you’d love them! Maybe they wouldn’t fit you, though. I don’t think we wear the same size._

_Oh! I know what I’ll do! The next letter I send you is going to come in a box. Why, you might ask? Because I’m going to send you one of my sweatshirts! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it fits you. I’ve also put our anniversary date on the sleeve. It’s cute! It’s also my first embroidery attempt, so, you know._

Seungsik can only laugh, because Chan writes exactly the same way he spoke. He swears he can hear him talking, reading the words off the page as if they’re in conversation. He can imagine the way he smiles, the way his laughter seeps into each of his words and even the dimples on the sides of his smiles peering out every other word.

If he didn’t know any better, Seungsik would almost think he’s still in love with Chan. A part of him still is, though. A part of him probably always will be, too. But Seungwoo isn’t the jealous type. He knows everything there is to know about Chan, Seungsik isn’t shy. “Do you think we can get a dog, when we get settled in?”

“A dog?” Seungwoo glances over. “What kind of dog?”

“You know those uh, really big ones?”

He laughs. “There’s a lot of big dogs, Seungsik.”

Seungsik pouts. “Okay, well, I don’t know _what_ kind of dog I want—maybe we should do some kind of date at the shelter, or something.”

“We would come home with five dogs.”

“But they’d all be good boys!” Seungsik can hear Seungwoo’s laugh before it happens. “I promise it won’t be five dogs.”

“Promise?”

“…Maybe two.” Seungsik can only imagine it. Two dogs in their two-bedroom house together, being able to run around in the backyard they have, having them snuggle up to them while they sleep and guard the house from anyone scary. Or have them dressed up in cute outfits for the holidays, trained to not attack their guests when they come over. Seungsik would feed them table scraps while Seungwoo playfully scold him that he shouldn’t.

He can only imagine it. “Okay. Two is the absolute limit.”

Seungsik gives a cute little cheer, almost dropping the stack of polaroids and letters in his lap. He forgot Chan photographed his embroidery work, and even in the bad lighting of the polaroid, Seungsik can tell it’s nothing short of pure talent. Chan always doubted his abilities. Even if it was his first real attempt, it was still good. Seungsik wishes Chan believed the same.

The other polaroid is just of one of his plants. It looks so alive and pretty. Chan always prided himself in his plants, his ability to keep each and every one of them alive. If Seungsik remembers correctly, Chan had six of them, and not one died in his care. He had four when they first met, then Seungsik gave him one during their first-year anniversary, and Chan picked up the sixth one sometime after.

Seungsik actually has the letter about plant number six in his lap. He pulls it out of the stack, smiling fondly at the different use of paper. This time it’s a faint greenish color, recalling that Chan had a stack of stationery paper and had all plans of going through each paper at least once to see which he liked the best.

_Seungsik! I bet you didn’t expect this one, ha! Or maybe I told you while I was waiting for it to arrive to you and you totally expected it. I’m bad at doing that kind of thing, aren’t I? Somehow, I always spoil these letters for you, and I’m really bad at keeping secrets._

_But look! I used green paper this time. It’s quite fitting, I think. And why is that you might be wondering. Because I got a new plant today! Yeah, I know, I already have five (thanks to you, baby.) and I probably don’t need anymore, but this one looked so lonely and I couldn’t help myself. His name is Tan! Why Tan? I am honestly not sure. Just sounded good to me. Don’t judge. (I know you wouldn’t anyways)._

_This is a very short letter, because I just wanted to tell you about my new plant baby! Also, to send you some more pictures of them all. I wrote their names and birthdays on the backs, because I know you like that sort of thing._

Seungsik can’t help but cry now. The tears are so jarring that Seungwoo almost stops the car in shock, and Seungsik has to tell him to keep driving, because he’s fine. Really, he is. It’s been a really long day for him, emotionally speaking. Chan’s polaroids of his plants scatter on the car floor, and Seungsik rushes to pick them up because he worries that they’ll get too dirty too quickly down there. And Seungwoo is watching him worriedly but listening to him all the same and keeps driving, which is all that Seungsik wants.

Moving today was honestly not the plan. Seungsik is surely already a mess as it is, and it isn’t just because he’s moving. It isn’t just because he’s starting a new chapter. Seungsik isn’t even upset that he’s moving so far away from his family. He shouldn’t even be reading those letters anyways.

But it’s been four years, Seungsik needs to move on. Chan surely would want him to. And four years ago to the day Seungsik received his last ever letter from Chan, and the news a few hours later that he’d been involved in a car crash. And Seungsik scrambled up the last little bit of his money to visit him, but by the time he’d gotten there it’d been too late. Seungsik only remembers the rest of the month going by in a bit of a blur, a flurry of emotions and heartaches and going through his things, talking with his family who he knew little about, being there for Chan’s mother, a sweet old woman who wanted nothing but to see her son happy, and Seungsik regrets not getting the chance to see him sooner. And after the funeral was over and everyone else had left to go back home, Seungsik spent the next several months just wondering what he’d done wrong.

Now he just hopes that Chan is okay, wherever he is. Seungsik knows he shouldn’t worry about it any longer. He can’t help it. Sure, he’s moved on, in a new relationship, engaged to Seungwoo, moving to a house with him, and living the dream life that he’s always wanted, but hell it’s hard. Seungsik hasn’t opened the last letter. It’s the only one that remains sealed in an envelope, and he can tell there’s a polaroid in it too, but he’s too scared.

The car pulls into the driveway to home while Seungsik is in the middle of calming himself down, and he flinches when he feels warm hands on his face, breathing out shakily once he realizes that it’s just Seungwoo, and that he’s just trying to make sure he’s okay. “We’re home, you know.”

“Okay.” And so Seungsik allows Seungwoo to help him out of the car, and he’s just thankful that the long ride it over, that the two can sit down and relax for a minute. He’s still holding onto the letters, and it takes a few minutes of careful prying for Seungwoo to get them out of his fingers. “Come on, you can read the other one later.”

Seungsik wants to protest, but he’s honestly a little tired, and he can’t resist the urge to snuggle into Seungwoo’s side once they get the rest of the boxes in, and he falls asleep a little too quickly.

Seungsik wakes up sometime later covered in one of the blankets from the couch and the smell of dinner. And beside him is the last letter from Chan, almost haunting him because he hasn’t opened it yet. “Dinner’s almost done.” Seungwoo sits beside him, patting his head softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Sort of.” Seungsik yawns, almost as if on cue. “What did you make?”

“Well since we don’t have a lot in the house right now, just some ramen.” Seungwoo looks at him. “Do you want to read that letter?”

“Yeah. I think I do.” He fiddles with the seal, tearing at it to gently that Seungsik isn’t even sure it’ll open at this rate, but it gives way rather quickly and inside he can see two final polaroids, and one piece of light blue paper. Carefully, Seungsik pulls out the polaroids, smiling because they’re of Chan’s precious smile, the way his lips turn up at the corner and lead right to his dimples. His hair is curly and soft, fallen over his forehead in such a way that highlights his eyes just beautifully.

The letter is what Seungsik is mostly scared about. He doesn’t know what to expect.

_Hey! Seungsik! I’ve missed you. I know you’re a little busy with classes and everything, and I am too. I wanted to write to you, though, because I figured it would be the best thing. I got your letter! It meant so much to me, I wasn’t expecting you to write back, like, ever. I have it hung up above my nightstand so I can see it every day before I go to bed._

_So, I have a little surprise! I have enough money to come and see you! And for longer than just a few days, but a few weeks! I already bought a bunch of food that you like, and clothes, and a few surprises that I don’t want to tell you about yet, and I think you will love them!_

_I’ll even bring Ruby so you can officially meet her, since I’m staying for a while. How are you, actually? I hope school isn’t stressing you out like super badly. You know, my mom really wants to meet you. Like, she’s been really trying to get me to call you while she’s at home so she can meet you. She says, “she wants to see the man who’s made her son so happy.” I feel like she’s just trying to find more ways to embarrass me._

_Well, I can’t wait to see you in a few days._

_Love you,_

_Chan._

Seungsik can’t believe it. Mostly because it’s almost like he knew, except there’s no way in hell that he knew, and Chan wouldn’t have written anything like that if he did. Chan definitely couldn’t have known. Why it took him four years to read this letter, he isn’t sure. But he is only thankful that Seungwoo had given him the courage to read it now. “It’s okay.”

“I know.”

“He would be proud of you, you know.” Seungwoo smiles softly. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Seungsik sets out all of the polaroids he’s collected from Chan onto the ground, reorganizing them into several different patterns until he finds something that he likes the most, and the next day he buys a picture album to put them all in, stacking all the letters in the back. He sits it in his nightstand to have by his side as long as he can.


End file.
